Chapter 87 | No Spiritual Roots? Then My Fists Shall Shatter the Heavens!

Sixty years was enough to turn the young geniuses of that era into dry bones, or decrepit old men on the verge of death.

Yet she still looked exactly as she did back then. In fact, because her blood qi had become increasingly terrifying, her appearance was even more stunning than before.

“I should go take a look. After being in seclusion for thirty years, and then another thirty years, it's about time to see what the mundane martial path has become today,” Su Yueli murmured softly.

This time, she did not wear that conspicuous and easily recognizable black robe.

Retrieving a cold, carved white mask from her storage bag, she fastened it over her face. She had always kept a mask on hand for convenience, though she had never used it until now.

Then, with a single step forward, her figure transformed into a blurry afterimage as she dashed at full speed toward the Great Li Imperial City.

...

Along the way, Su Yueli suddenly thought of the Pang family of those years. Back then, they were locked in an irreconcilable feud to the death.

However, the patriarch of the Pang family, who was considered a colossus in the mundane world—a peak Eighth Realm martial artist—had ultimately died by her hand.

A cycle of sixty years had passed. By now, the Pang family had likely forgotten all about her.

Mortals had very short lifespans. Calculating the time, the group of people who had seen and hated her back then were probably all lying in the dirt by now.

Although there were cultivators within the Pang family, they were all juniors with mediocre talent, possessing strengths at the Third or Fourth Realm at most.

In the past, she had been weak and needed to keep a low profile. Now, she could fight head-on, so she naturally didn't care about these small fry.

The journey took her a full two and a half days. When the outline of the imperial city appeared on the horizon, Su Yueli slowed her pace.

The city before her eyes was visibly different from the one in her memories.

The city walls had been raised by several tens of feet. The soldiers inspecting people at the gates had been replaced by internal martial arts experts with bulging temples. The queue to enter the city stretched a long distance, and the air was thick with a tense, storm-brewing atmosphere.

The events that had transpired here over sixty years ago felt as if they had happened just yesterday.

Su Yueli's gaze drifted, and a ripple of emotion stirred in her heart. A cultivator's life passed too sluggishly. Going into seclusion for decades at a time made one completely numb to the concept of time.

But to a mortal, this was an entire lifetime.

She wondered how Lin Ye, who had crossed paths with her back then, was doing now.

If he was still alive at this age, he would probably be an eighty- or ninety-year-old man with no teeth, tottering as he walked.

Or perhaps even his bones had already turned to dust. The further one walked on the road to longevity, the fewer familiar faces remained around them.

Su Yueli pulled herself from her thoughts and entered the city with the flow of people.

Instead of rushing to gather information, she found a secluded, ordinary-looking restaurant. She ordered a few simple, mundane dishes and a flask of shaojiu, then sat by the window, eating and drinking at a leisurely pace.

By now, the restaurant was already packed with all kinds of martial artists. At the neighboring table, several men carrying sabers were talking animatedly, spit flying.

“Have you heard? A lot of ruthless characters have arrived for this Martial Arts Tournament. I heard the eldest young master of the Nangong family reached the Fourth Realm at just thirty years old. He's an absolute monster.”

“What's so great about the Fourth Realm? Yesterday, I saw a stubborn loose cultivator from the north get into a fight on the street. With a single punch, he sent a Fourth Realm expert flying, coughing up blood. With that kind of external hard qi, he's definitely reached the Fifth Realm.”

“Hiss... If that's the case, the caliber of martial artists this year is ridiculously high. When the tournament starts tomorrow, it's going to be a bloodbath.”

“Tsk, tsk. It seems the elixirs and cultivation methods offered by the imperial family this time have successfully lured out the disciples of those old monsters.”

Su Yueli took a sip of the harsh shaojiu, her heart completely untroubled.

In the eyes of mortals, reaching the Seventh Realm at thirty could indeed be called a genius. But in the eyes of cultivators, as long as one did not draw qi into the body, they would ultimately become a handful of yellow clay after a hundred years.

She did not consider herself a genius, but her endless lifespan was more than enough for her to break through to higher realms and create miracles.

However, seeing these mortals put their lives on the line for a bit of fame, wealth, and mundane resources, this long-lost touch of humanity made her feel a trace of wistfulness.

The tournament would begin tomorrow. She hoped these martial artists would show some real worth and not make it too boring for her to watch.

...

Meanwhile, tens of thousands of miles away within the Blue Moon Sect.

Accompanied by a dull rumble, the stone door of a secret chamber that had been sealed for decades suddenly swung open.

Shen Huai'an walked out slowly. The sunlight spilled across his face, illuminating a pair of eyes that were far deeper than before.

During these decades of quiet meditation, the sect had poured a massive amount of resources into him, practically forcing his cultivation level up through sheer quantity of spiritual medicine.

After tempering his state of mind, he broke through the bottleneck that had previously blocked him in one fell swoop, advancing two realms in a row. Now, he was firmly established in the Sixth Realm.

Inside the main hall of the Blue Moon Sect, the Sect Master looked at Shen Huai'an, whose aura was dense and powerful, his face filled with a gratified smile.

“Excellent! You have not let down the high hopes I placed in you. Crossing the threshold of the Sixth Realm in just a few decades, you are already more than capable of looking down on the rest of the younger generation.”

The Sect Master of the Blue Moon Sect picked up his teacup and said slowly, “The once-in-a-century Cultivators' Tournament is almost upon us. However, the rules remain the same: the mundane Martial Arts Tournament will take place first. You have been in seclusion for too long. Though your state of mind has broken through, you lack real combat experience. This time...”

“You will head to the imperial city ahead of schedule. Observe and gauge the depths of those mundane experts, and take the opportunity to relax. Once the Cultivators' Tournament begins, you have only one goal—take the championship and win glory for our Blue Moon Sect.”

A flash of fanatical ambition crossed Shen Huai'an's eyes as he bowed and accepted the order. “Huai'an will not fail you. The champion of this tournament can only be me.”

The Sect Master laughed heartily, then clapped his hands.

Two dark shadows appeared in the center of the hall like ghosts. They were two withered old men, their bodies radiating a decaying yet extremely terrifying aura.

“These are two Ninth Realm elders of our sect. The mundane imperial city is currently a mix of dragons and snakes, and there might be some blind loose cultivators causing trouble. The two of them will accompany you to ensure your safety.”

“Remember, when you are outside, your every word and action represent the Blue Moon Sect. If anyone dares to stand in your way, simply kill them.”

Shen Huai'an looked at the two max-level bodyguards behind him, a confident curve forming on his lips.

Forget about traveling with protectors of this level; even with his current strength, he could walk unchallenged in the mundane world.

However, ever since his Heavenly Bone was tested and he was accepted into the Blue Moon Sect as the Young Sect Master, he had done nothing but cultivate bitterly. Counting it up, nearly two hundred years had already passed.